


Offer me that deathless death

by esmeeeeme



Category: Kingsman: The Secret Service (2015)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Bisexual Eggsy, Eggsy & Roxy Bromance, Eggsy as Galahad, Gen, Grief/Mourning, Harry Hart Lives, Hurt Eggsy, Lesbian Roxy, M/M, Merlin is the best friend anyone can ask for, Near Death Experiences, Nightmares, Overworking, Past Child Abuse, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Recovery, Therapy
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-10
Updated: 2016-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 01:30:16
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,954
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4545006
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/esmeeeeme/pseuds/esmeeeeme
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Some of the nightmares got so bad that he would wake up, crying into his hands. Hoping that Harry was alive. That the dreams were just that: dreams. Not memories of what he had seen on the screen at the church. Not his own wrecked sobs. He wished, yearned, for the reality to wake up and see that Harry was alive, and that all of this pain and suffering was gone. </p><p>But instead, he woke up to the darkness of his bedroom and that cold emptiness still present and the absence of Harry Hart more heavier than ever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I think it’s safe to say that I’m officially Hartwin trash. I’ve long since fallen down and I'm not gonna get back up. But hey and go big or go home. Join me on my tumblr aka thechosenone305. 
> 
> Wow, okay, I originally had this written for some of my original work, but I felt that it was so fitting, considering just how much I ship this, and just how much angst I had written up for it. I really hope Colin Firth comes back for a sequel, Kingsman is great. 
> 
> Title is from Take Me To Church by Hozier because that’s my favorite song and I got them feels. But to, deathless death? Faking your death?? Seriously?? But yeah, I obviously don't own Kingsman, enjoy!

Coming back into the world after V-Day was the glory after a battle. For one, Eggsy helped save the world from complete destruction. Roxy managed to take down a satellite despite having a fear of heights, and he had never felt more proud of being her best mate. Dean and his goons were locked up, and they wouldn’t be out for a long time.

Eggsy got a good, proper home in a safe neighborhood. His mum and Daisy were going to be safe, finally safe. There was enough room for JB to run in the backyard, Daisy had all the toys she ever wanted, and nothing cheered up Eggsy more than seeing the spark of life in his mum’s eyes, the same spark that he remembered seeing when his father was still around. She was happier, livelier, more alive.

But the victory was short lived.

The world was a mess. Harry was dead. The mission in Valentine's bunker was all so fast,, leaving the massacre at the church in the very back, deep ends of Eggsy’s mind. More chaos began happening as a result of Valentine plans. More missions around the world, more bad guys to take down, more chaos.

The same could be said for the Kingsman organization itself. What with the head of the organization outed as a traitor, more traitors followed; interns, trainers, agents. Luckily, no more knights were revealed to be traitors.

Other intelligence agencies in the same line of work as the Kingsman sent aid to assist in missions.   

Eggsy inherited Harry's codename of Galahad. It was something that Merlin said that he would be proud of. But even when he heard it being said, he half expected to see Harry standing there, like he had never been shot. Like he was always there.

The funeral service was closed coffin. Eggsy preferred it that way, wanting to remember how Harry was before he got shot. It was painful already to be going to the funeral for his mentor. It could get worse if he had to see him in the state that he died.

The moments before he was set to go, he stayed for a good hour trying to muster up his wits and crying. Harry, his Harry, was dead, Harry was dead. He was going to his mentor’s funeral, a thought he never thought would become a reality, especially now.

The funeral was a silent, rainy affair. Many other agents were there, some that Eggsy knew, others that he had never met. From what Eggsy knew, Harry had no family left. The funeral was delayed due to the mess the world was in.

It had only been two months since V-Day.

He wore his black suit, the one that he wore to recon missions, when stealth was a key tool in success. Roxy wore a long black dress and a dark coat.

Harry was buried with a British flag on his coffin. Eggsy cried, he’ll admit it. Everyone did cry.

But Eggsy? He'll admit it. He cried. He wept. He kept his handkerchief to his face and tried to not make much noise.

Roxy interlocked her gloved fingers with his, and pulled him in for an embrace.

He was glad that he could hold it together. That the crying didn't increment or get worse. It was painful.

That had been before.

He took a short breath.

"Hey," he said to the grave. "It's me again."

"I got some white ones this time," he gestured to the roses.

The cemetery was empty, except for him. He took the metro instead of a cab, not thinking about using the shuttle.  His hands shook while holding the roses.

"I miss you," Eggsy breathed. His heart swelled, bitter shaking hands with the roses.

"God, I miss you so much," he whispered again.

The massacre of the church.

The screams of frustration melted into shaking, body wrenching sobs. His bloody hands, from his blood, from Harry's blood, from the blood of the people in the church. He was the one pulling the trigger. He was the one who killed Harry.

Some days, he dreamed that he was the one behind the trigger instead of Valentine. Haunted by his past, the mess he and the other Kingsman had to clean up. How millions of people died. The footage of what happened with the church. How utterly helpless he felt while watching Valentine shoot Harry. The sobbing, the shaking, the shock that Harry was gone. How he was never coming back. How disappointed he was in Eggsy failing that goddamn test.

Some of the nightmares got so bad that he would wake up, crying into his hands. Always a mess, taking a moment to recompose himself. , sweating, hoping that Harry was alive. That the dreams were just that: dreams. Not memories of what he had seen on the screen at the church. Not his own wrecked sobs. He wished, yearned, for the reality to wake up and see that Harry was alive, and that all of this pain and suffering was gone.  

But instead, he woke up to a worried JB trying to nuzzle him, and he'd hold his dog for the rest of the night. It was a terrifying thing to go through.

He would wake up in cold sweat, sometimes tears running down his cheeks. And more than often, to have JB whining and trying to nuzzle him. He would hold him for the rest of the night, however long it took for him to get more sleep. If he even slept at all.

He tried his best to keep a level head while working. Missions could never afford distractions, especially now with the world being a huge fucked up mess. There was too much risk involved.

Eggsy kept himself busy to do anything about his grief, and he saw that as a good thing. Not exactly good, but as something that was distracting. Less time to focus on it, more things to do. Missions upon missions each week, always asking for more. Not in trying to prove himself, but in order to get some distraction.

It had been working until Merlin called him into his office.

“Are you sure you don’t want to take a break?” Merlin hesitated.

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Eggsy asked.

“You’ve been working nonstop for the past three weeks,” Merlin said. “What is this all about?”

“It’s nothin’,” Eggsy said. He tried not to sound defensive, or even aggressive. It was about to be three months after V-Day and he was still getting there. “I’m doing my job, alright?”

“There is a difference between doing your job and overworking yourself.”

“The world is a mess, we’ve got to clean it up,” Eggsy retorted. “Isn’t that what you said?”

Merlin was getting frustrated now.

"Galahad."

"I'll take a mission, then. What about that drug ring in Paris?"

"Galahad."

"Smugglers in Portugal?"

_"Galahad."_

"Merlin, just give me a mission."

Without warning, Merlin slammed his hands on the desk. "For fuck's sake, Eggsy!" he snapped. "Listen to what I'm saying!"

Eggsy jumped, startled. He didn't take yelling too well. He stopped abruptly and felt at a loss of words. What was he supposed to say? It wasn't often that Merlin snapped.

Merlin saw his change of expression and sighed. He rubbed at his temples, "Talk to me,” he said, more gentle. “What is going on?" he asked, weary. He looked older than what he was, exhausted.

It was things like this that weighed down on his shoulders. Eggsy knew that his job, as fun as it was, it was also dangerous. That people have died doing it, to protect for the greater good.

"Nothing," Eggsy shrugged, trying to be convincing about it. But he knew he couldn’t; this was Merlin he was talking to. The man was a veteran Kingsman agent, a fucking genius with computers. It was no surprise that he would easily look through Eggsy’s lie.

Merlin leaned forward in his chair. "This isn’t a test to prove yourself. You are worthy of being a Kingsman, of being a knight. If it isn’t that, then what is it?”

Eggsy couldn't answer.

His throat felt tight. He looked down at the tiny medal he wore every day under his shirt.

"Oh Eggsy," Merlin sighed again, that exasperated sigh he always got when an intern got nervous. Not of frustration, but of exhaustion. He reached across the desk and placed his hand on Eggsy's wrist. "I miss him too."

Harry.

The absence had felt so real. No one entered his office. It was still locked shut. Somehow, no one had the heart to move his things out. Remained locked, like he would come back anytime now.

"You know, Kingsman has some of the best therapists available," Merlin said.

Eggsy was thankful for Merlin's perception. He knew he needed the help to overcome a loss. He didn’t have enough bravery to say it out loud, especially to himself.

"Some days are bad," Eggsy confessed, trying to keep his voice even. "Others are manageable."

Today was one of the awful ones.

"Eggsy, it's a hard thing to go through. Loss is something that takes time to overcome. You don't have to do this alone.I can set up an appointment for next Tuesday. Is that good?”

“Yeah, sounds good."

"I just want Harry back," Eggsy said softly.

"Me too."


	2. Chapter 2

Four months since V-Day.

He had less nightmares.

Healing was a slow process, a damn slow one at that. But he was getting there. He was recovering, of sorts.

"I don't know what to do," Eggsy said softly.

Well, it wasn't permanent. They would stop and they would go.

He had been seeing the therapist Merlin recommended him to for a while now. Dr. Anderson, a kind woman with dark complexion and brown hair always pulled back into a bun. She worked for Kingsman for twelve years as a counselor and helped the agents for a variety of issues.

It was one step closer to recovery.

* * *

Five months since V Day.

Sometimes, he went by Harry's home.

Harry's home remained empty. Eggsy made sure that the first thing he did was get his mum and sister to a safer, better place. Dean and his gang were long gone out of the picture and Eggsy knew that his family was in good hands.

He lived next door to Harry's home, a home he grew to know.

Harry always slept on the left side. Eggsy could tell from the still visible indent on the pillow, and the slightly cluttered bedside table. The alarm clock that was turned off and there were a pair of spare glasses next to a thick book, bright red ribbon sticking out the bottom as a marker.

_As Hemingway once said, what makes a man noble is not what makes him better than others, but what he is better than his past self._

The sheets still smelled like Harry. Expensive cologne and aftershave. To Eggsy's shock, the bed wasn't made. Someone as proper and prim as Harry Hart not bothering to make his bed.

It ached.

He lived next door to Harry's home, a home he grew to know.

He would look through the office of all the tabloids, remembering why Harry would collect them. His reason to fight, his dedication to keep good for humanity.

He knew it was pathetic to be missing someone this much.

It was another nightmare that woke Eggsy up enough that he couldn't go back to sleep.

He wrote a small note to his mother for her to find on the counter, and let JB sleep on the foot of his bed.

The night before the test was one he remembered vividly. Seeing Harry so relieved, so relaxed.

The last time they spoke together, they had a terrible argument. It was the last time they would see each other. And damn it, it still haunted him so much. The fact that he disappointed Harry, the fact that Harry was dead and he could do nothing about it.

Had Eggsy gone along with him into the church, he would have taken the bullet. He would've gone in with him with a plan and a way out, some damned back up. Harry was a brilliant agent, among the best Kingsman had ever had, but damn it,  _he was still a human._

The regret was still strong.

Yes, he was still Galahad. Yes, he was still an agent.

Had he not disappointed him, it wouldn't have hurt as much.

* * *

"I thought I'd find you here."

Eggsy stirred with a pounding headache, his face sore. He vaguely recognized his surroundings until he saw the thick, maroon curtains on the window. Oh right. He was in Harry's home. In Harry's bedroom, more to say.

He found to see Roxy sitting on the bed. She was out of uniform, dressed in old track pants and a hoodie. Her hair was tied to a lazy bun, wearing no make up. Today was her day off, then.

"How are you feeling?" Roxy asked.

Eggsy sighed, groaning in pain. But he couldn't say that he was just a little bit pissed. The fact that Roxy knew where he was, without even asking, it

"Guess fine doesn't really buy it, huh?" he asked.

Eggsy rested back onto the pillow, pulling up the covers. He was exhausted, still in pain. Still hurting.

"What's wrong?" Roxy asked.

"Haven't you heard? The whole world," Eggsy scoffed. "Guess we really cocked up this time."

"It's not that."

Roxy was right.

"Eggsy?"

He was too tired to try and tell Roxy to go away, to try and hide his tears.

A sob escaped his throat.

God, he was so pathetic. Crying over some guy. But it wasn't some guy. It wasn't some person he met at a pub or spend the night with.

It was Harry Hart. Harry Hart, the man that gave him a second chance to make things right in life. Harry Hart, who strode with postured elegance yet didn't scream arrogance. His Harry. Harry Hart, the man he loved.

Shit.

He was in love with Harry.

"Eggsy, what's wrong?"

"I love him, Roxy."

The words barely came out in a whisper.

"I love him so fucking much."

Rather than expecting a scoff of disgust, he was pulled closer into Roxy's arms.

"Oh Eggsy," Roxy sighed, gently running her fingers through his hair. "I know."

God, it was shattering.

Like a dam breaking, Eggsy cried. was pulled up, with warm arms pulling him in. A very sisterly embrace. He sobbed more than he did at the damn funeral, more than he did with the alcohol the night Harry got shot. It wasn't full recovery damn it, he was back to square one.

Roxy smelled of vanilla, smelled of home. She was warm.

Like Harry's bed.

It wasn't like in the movies, where realizing the love left them feeling giddy and happy, smitten and ready to go to confess. It was heartbreaking, it was hurting. Grief at it's worst.

"I didn't tell him," Eggsy said. "I didn't tell Harry I loved him."

"I'm so sorry, Eggsy."

He felt a warm kiss on to of his head, and the embrace pulling him tighter.

"I'm so sorry."

* * *

Six months since V Day.

Across the world, Harry finally woke up.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Thing about Merlin was that even before V Day, he didn't sleep much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going with tumblr user lionhartwin's headcanon to have Harry's birthday be August 17th, 1960. Thats just some trivia, not currently useful to the story. Anyways, sorry for the delay. College prep has gotten hella crazy, so it will be slow on here for the next few weeks. More info in the end notes.
> 
> Also, taking it to Merlin for a change of things! Woot! Enjoy!

Six months since V-Day.

Thing about Merlin was that even before V Day, he didn't sleep much.

Well, he _obviously_ had to sleep. Six hours, maybe seven if he was lucky or too damn tired from filling out paperwork. But it wasn't long enough by Harry's standards.

People often mistook Merlin for being the mother hen, and he will admit that he has some mother hen tendencies. Watch after the agents, fretting over their messy desks, reminding them to go eat, he was a caring friend.

He was the mother hen, because he cared.

And well, he didn't have someone to do it for him anymore.

When Harry got shot, Merlin lost more than just a fellow agent. He lost more than that. His best friend, his _brother_ by choice that had stuck alongside him for decades and the closest, most intimate best friend he will ever have.

Merlin sobbed.

Harry was messy. Harry Hart, the educated and classy and best damn agent the agency had seen in years, he was messy. Messy being that his enthusiasm for old literature could be easily noticed with the piles upon piles of new books that were never finished because Harry would return to his old favorites to reread them over and over again. He would stay up reading and too often, Merlin would go to his home to find Harry slumped in his favorite armchair with a book across his lap.

He never made his bed, he never made his _fucking_ bed and by god, it infuriated the hell out of Merlin. Harry, the same educated and classy and best damn agent that Kingsman had seen in years, the same one who took down an armed squadron of bandits in Venice with a rifle without firing a single bullet, didn't make his _fucking_ bed.

Merlin knew that Harry had his own demons from the past. He knew how much he struggled to overcome them, to better himself and improve. But the helping hand Harry always offered would never go away. Never with a terrible argument, never when Merlin pushed him away. Harry understood.

Even when Merlin snapped at him with things he didn't mean, even with all the outbursts, Harry was patient. When Merlin pushed him away because of his own issues, or what Merlin called his own fucking stupidity, Harry was always there. A gentle apology, a warm hug next to the fire, with pent up frustration and repressed grief of losing his wife finally letting go. Harry loved Merlin as a brother and it was unconditional support and love. Even when they argued. Even when Merlin felt like a burden to humanity. Even when Harry had his bad days. They were the only family they both really had left.

Thing was that before V Day, Merlin didn't sleep much.

But now, after seeing his emotional crutch and best friend get shot, he didn't sleep at all.

* * *

"Eggsy, is there something wrong?"

"What isn't wrong, that's the question."

Suzanne frowned.

"I haven't been completely honest with you. Everything I've been telling you is true, obviously, but I haven't told you other important details."

"It...It isn't V-day that's been getting me the most. Well, I mean, it has, obviously since so many people died and we kind of saved the world but made it kind of worse with killing so many world leaders because of it…" After thinking about it, Eggsy admitted, "Okay, so V-day _is_ part of the problem."

Eggsy grumbled, running a hand through his hair, frustrated with himself. "Well okay, it is that. God, I'm not even making any sense, _fuck_."

"Eggsy, have patience with yourself," Suzanne said.

"I don't need patience, I need to let go. I need to let go of this stupid fucking…" he felt the ache in his chest hurt some. It always did whenever he thought about Harry, about how the last he had seen of him was the glasses footage.

Frustrated at himself, Eggsy sighed and settled back into the chair. "I need to let go."

"Let go of what?" Suzanne asked, ever so patiently.

"I…" Eggsy felt like his throat was closing up. He couldn't choke it out. He couldn't even say it out loud. He could whisper it, think it all he wanted, but he couldn't say it.

The first time he had said it outside of his own thoughts was when Roxy found him in a hungover meltdown in Harry's bedroom.

"I have feelings for someone…"

"Can you tell me more about the feelings?"

_How bloody cliche, talking about my feelings._

"This person….Yeah. They haven't been around my life for long, not since childhood, that is. But it feels like I have known them forever. I...I haven't felt so strongly about someone like that in so long. Ever. He saw the best in me."

"He gave me another shot at life and not cocking it up. He saw me for me, not some street hoodlum or another drop out. My whole life took a twist and it was a good one. I could finally be doing something good with my life."

"He gave me another shot. And with that, he gave me a new opportunity in living. My mum and Daisy are safe now. That bastard of a step father is gone and behind bars, won't be leaving 'em any time soon."

"The last time he and I talked, we had a terrible argument. I didn't shoot the damn dog."

"He was so disappointed in me, god it felt _terrible._ I didn't want to let him down, and I did."

"You feel that you left him down for not shooting the dog."

"He believed so much in me. And I messed it up."

"Some nights, I'm the one that pulls the trigger. Others, I take the bullet for him."

"Eggsy, you're not stupid to be in love."

"Yeah I fucking am. Harry is dead," Eggsy said. "I'm hung up on someone that will never come back. Suze, I need to learn to let go. Every day, it haunts me."

"Eggsy, overcoming the loss of a loved one will not happen overnight. It isn't something immediate. But you talking about it is the first step, and that's good. You acknowledged the loss of Harry and you're going to work to recover from that. But in order to achieve it," Suzanne began. "You have to be patient with yourself. Mental health is just as important as physical health, and you cannot run on a broken leg, am I right?"

"Yeah."

"Think of it like that. Overcoming grief will not happen overnight, just like a broken leg will not heal in a day. You need time, you need patience. I am your support as a therapist. But I'm sure you have friends and family who can lend a hand."

* * *

Six months and a week after V-Day.

Harry should have really thought better than to just show up at headquarters to continue speaking with Percival.

The truth was that Roxy had slapped him _hard_ , then after Harry struggled for a good ten seconds on how to respond, she started crying, throwing her arms around him and swearing loudly that if he scared them like that ever again, she was going to kill him.

Harry hugged her back tightly and apologized. She still couldn't believe it, going to the point of pinching his arm to make sure he was real. That he was still their Harry.

"I assure you, Roxanne, I am not a clone."

"You got shot in the head!"

"Left one hell of a nasty scar, I'll tell you that."

"What is all this ruckus?"

Merlin felt his heart stop.

"You stupid son of a bitch." Merlin said.

"You stupid, fucking idiotic son of a bitch," Merlin's voice broke. "Why would you do that?!"

"I'm so sorry I hurt you like this."

"You damn better should be!"

Harry had wrapped him in a hug before Merlin could continue.

Merlin embraced him back, letting out a small sob of disbelief. He couldn't stop crying, didn't see himself letting go of his best friend. His actual warm, in the flesh, _alive_ best friend. Merlin's hands grabbed the back of Harry's sweater tightly, tears still fresh on his cheeks.

"Don't you _ever_ die on me again," Merlin whispered. "Please Harry, don't scare us like that ever again."

"I promise you, my friend, I won't."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, yeah. That got done in about two days. No lie. It is not my best, but its still worth something. And please, please, please leave a review. Even though I will not be active on here for the next few weeks because of college preparations, reviews warm my soul and being. They help keep me going. It gives me something good to come back to, especially after a long strenuous week of exams and even more longer college stuff. FAFSA season is around, and so is stress.
> 
> Of course, thank you for reading!

**Author's Note:**

> Oh yeah, this is gonna be an emotional rollercoaster. I'm ready. Anyways, thanks for reading! Please comment if you can!


End file.
